Rancher's Deadly Reunion

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Rancher's Deadly Reunion Page 25

by Beth Cornelison


  “That doesn’t sound like the best use of Payne Protection resources,” Cooper had said.

  And Cole had snorted. “Hasn’t the past taught us we’re the safest and the most efficient when we all work together?”

  Cooper hadn’t been able to argue that. So they all stood in the pew with him: Cooper, Manny, Dane, Lars and Nikki. His grandfather hadn’t hired just one bodyguard; he’d hired all of Payne Protection. At least, all of Cooper’s franchise. There were still two others, run by Cooper’s brothers, Logan and Parker.

  All of Cole’s coworkers and friends were here, so he wasn’t alone. And he sure as hell wasn’t the only one suffering. Not at this funeral...

  Finally, it ended with Shawna filing out of that front pew to take her husband’s ashes. Still so slender and petite, she looked too delicate to lift the heavy urn, but she handled it easily if reluctantly. She still wore her hair long, the silky black tresses skimming down her back nearly to her thin waist. It flowed as she turned away from the front of the church. But she paused again at that first pew before starting down the aisle. And a little girl stepped out to take her hand.

  Cole’s breath left his lungs. She had a child. He had no doubt the little girl was Shawna’s. With her long, silky black hair and pale skin, she looked exactly like Shawna had when he’d met her so many years ago on the elementary school playground, tears streaming down her face because some bully had knocked her down and she’d skinned her knees. This little girl’s knees weren’t skinned, but she was crying, her heart broken over the loss of her father.

  Of course Cole should not have been shocked to see the child. He’d heard Shawna and her husband had started a family. That was why his visit home when his grandfather had his heart attack had been so brief. He hadn’t wanted to risk running into Shawna then.

  He should have refused this assignment. But how?

  He’d loved Shawna too much to risk her getting hurt—even because of him. So he couldn’t let anyone else hurt her either. What if the bomb had been meant for her? What if the person tried again and killed Shawna or her child?

  He couldn’t risk it—just like his grandfather. The cagey old bastard had known. Xavier Bentler stepped out of the pew behind the little girl and started down the aisle with the child and her mother. Shawna was his nurse; she was supposed to be taking care of him. But it appeared to be the other way around, at least at the moment.

  They continued down the aisle toward the pew in the back that Cole and his friends had slipped into when they’d arrived a few minutes late. Shawna was looking down, one arm wrapped around that urn while her other arm was stretched out, her fingers linked with her daughter’s small ones. He didn’t expect her to notice him.

  But just as she neared the pew, she glanced up and even through her dark glasses, their eyes met and held. She paused for a moment—until the little girl tugged her forward and Cole’s grandfather put his hand on her back. Over her head, Xavier met Cole’s gaze and nodded. Then he guided Shawna out of the church to the long black car waiting at the bottom of the church steps.

  They had already inspected that vehicle, making certain no explosive devices had been planted on it. But still Dane slipped out of the other side of the pew and down the stairs to join the driver in the front seat. Astin, the chauffeur, had worked for Grandfather for years. He could handle the driving, but he didn’t have the gun Dane carried.

  Cole hoped Dane didn’t have to use it, not with the child in the car. At least the trip would be a short, and hopefully uneventful, one.

  Even before the minister announced that Xavier Bentler had invited everyone back to his home for a memorial luncheon, Cole knew that was where he would be heading next. Home. Not that the monstrous mansion had ever really felt like home.

  Cole glanced at his friends. Manny wouldn’t be surprised; he knew more than the others did about Cole’s life. But now everyone would know exactly how damn rich he was—so rich it was embarrassing. That was one of the reasons why he hated talking about himself or the past. But that wasn’t the only reason. It hurt too damn much when he thought of it because he always thought of her.

  * * *

  He was home.

  And Cole Bentler looked even more handsome than he did every time she’d thought of him over the past six years. His hair was dark gold and his eyes such a deep blue. He seemed taller than she remembered him and much more muscular, but then some of her memories were of the boy Cole had been, not of the man he had become.

  Just as she’d been warned, he had changed after joining the Marines. Not after boot camp. After boot camp, he’d come home and proposed to her. It was after all the missions, after leaving for months on end, that he had returned tense and distant and different.

  It was easier to remember the sweet, sensitive boy with whom she’d fallen in love than the cold, unemotional man who’d broken her heart.

  What in the world was he doing here? As Shawna settled into the back seat of the limousine and Xavier Bentler sat across from her, head down as if unwilling to meet her gaze, she knew. “You told him?”

  That was where Xavier had gone. Some time yesterday, he had slipped away for several long hours. She hadn’t been too concerned at the time. She’d figured he’d sneaked away to play a round of golf and smoke the cigars she’d banned from the house. She should have known Cole’s grandfather had been up to something; he usually was.

  And as usual he was completely unabashed at getting caught. He nodded.

  But she was still surprised that Cole had showed up. Even after he’d heard about her husband’s funeral, she doubted he’d have any compulsion to attend it.

  “I hired him to be your bodyguard,” he added.

  And she gasped.

  So did Maisy. “Why does Mommy need a bodyguard?” Then her blue eyes widened in realization and fear. “So nobody kills you like they killed...” Her voice cracked with sobs.

  Shawna slid across the seat and wrapped her free arm around the child’s thin shoulders. Her heart broke every time she heard her daughter cry and saw her fear. Shawna had done her best to try to shield the five-year-old from all the news broadcasts. But even if Maisy hadn’t heard it from the media, she would have known about the car bomb. The explosion had woken her up.

  Fighting to keep her voice calm and steady, she told Xavier, “I don’t need a bodyguard.” She glared at him, hoping he would take the hint.

  “Yes, you do!” But it was Maisy who argued with her. “You need to make sure nobody tries to kill you, too!”

  Shawna’s heart broke again at the terror in the child’s voice. She pulled her daughter closer and held her trembling body. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she assured her. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  Maisy’s head bobbed up and down in a quick nod. “I know,” she agreed. She fluttered her long black lashes and stared up at her with those deep blue eyes of hers and added, “Because Grampa X hired you a bodyguard.”

  But the man he’d hired to protect her was the one who’d already hurt her more than anyone else ever had. Who would protect her from him?

  Especially if he ever learned the truth...

  Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Childs

  ISBN-13: 9781488093210

  Rancher’s Deadly Reunion

  Copyright © 2018 by Beth Cornelison

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

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sp; This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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